


Not So Different After All

by soprano_buddy15



Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Aelswith learns a lot, Aethelstan is adorable, Episode 9, Finan and Sihtric are the best, Our boys go through a lot in episode 9, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24451534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4, EPISODE 9On the road to Bedwyn, Aelswith confronts Finan about his relationship with Aethelstan.
Relationships: Aelswith & Aethelstan, Finan & Aethelstan, Sihtric & Aethelstan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Java_Blythe_Peralta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_Blythe_Peralta/gifts).



> Hello! 
> 
> I ADORED writing this fanfic. I honestly think it might be my favourite one. I loved Finan and Aethelstan’s relationship, and Sihtric and Aethelstan is just… adorable. I really wanted to get into Aelswith’s head a little bit as well, and I got to wondering about how she would feel of having these guys care for her oldest grandson. 
> 
> As I was writing this, I realized that I had more to say with this so I turned it into a two-shot. I am hoping that it will be up sometime this weekend!
> 
> Constructive comments are always welcome! Just don’t be rude, because nobody wants that.

Aelswith was at least thankful to God that there were no swamplands around them. 

She was exhausted by the events of the past few days, and was looking forward to reaching Bedwyn. She was even more exhausted of having to ride with Uhtred and his heathen men.

She glanced back. Aethelstan was riding with the Irishman, Finan. She pursed her lips as she noticed Finan letting the boy hold the reins, guiding his motions in a soft voice. 

She knew that her grandson had spent the last month at Saltwic, but what that had all entailed was still unknown. The girl, Stiorra, was constantly snapping at Aethelstan and shooting furtive glances in his direction. She even heard Aethelstan ask the dark haired Dane for the knife at his back, to which he replied that “he would not need it again.”

She took a sharp breath when Finan abruptly passed her grandson over to the Dane while still riding. Even though Aethelstan was giggling and smiled when the Dane tickled him in the side, Aelswith’s heart was pounding at how close he had come to falling. 

“Lord Uhtred,” she called. “I wish to stop for the night.”

Uhtred glanced back at her, annoyance clear on his face. “Lady, if we stop, we will not reach Bedwyn for a month.” 

She sat higher in her saddle, narrowing her eyes at the man. “I feel the cold. I wish to stop.”

She felt the tension rise in their group as Uhtred sighed. “There is a clearing up ahead. We will stop there.” He turned around in his saddle, pointing to the Dane and Finan. “You two build a shelter for the Lady. Stiorra, Eadith, if you would collect firewood. Father Pyrlig will build the fire.” Before facing forward, Uhtred met Aelswith’s eyes and she knew that he was not pleased with her.

Stiorra let out an groan, turning to a patient Osferth as she vocally protested her job. 

They pulled into the clearing, a large oak tree with thick branches standing strong. Just to the back was another smaller clearing. “We will rest here for the night,” Uhtred said, lifting his leg over the neck of his horse and falling to the ground before coming over to help Aelswith off. “Thank you,” she replied stiffly.

Finan had already dismounted and went to grab Aethelstan off the horse. The Dane helped her grandson lift his leg over the withers and Finan lowered him to the ground. “Go pick up those wee sticks in the clearing there,” Finan pointed to the smaller clearing and gave Aethelstan a nudge. “You don’t want them pokin’ you in the back.” Aethelstan ran off and promptly began picking up the sticks. 

“You have no right to order him around.” Finan was kneeling, but he looked up in surprise as Aelswith followed him to the edge of the clearing to hack down the smaller branches. “He is royalty, and must be treated as such.” Aelswith huffed.

Finan raised an eyebrow, irking her even more. “He is also ten,” Finan replied. “He can do a bit of work.”

“Young or not, you are to treat him with respect!” She spoke in a hushed whisper, not wanting Uhtred to hear.

“Respect?” Said Finan, aghast. He stood, and looked down at her. “Lady Aelswith, tell me where and when I have disrespected Aethelstan.” 

Aelswith stood her ground, even though he stood quite a bit higher than her. “Sending him to do work, to clear the ground, teaching him when you had no right to.” She narrowed her eyes, feeling her anger rise. “You are not qualified to raise him on how about how to be a lord.”

By now Finan had raised both his eyebrows and was looking at her in disbelief. He swung his axe into the wood hard enough that it stayed there, before crossing his arms and giving her his full attention. She felt the emotion come off of him, and before she could help herself, took a step away from the warrior. 

“Lady, I respect that you are his grandmother and that you care for him,” he started, and Aelswith could tell that he was choosing his words with care. She found herself appreciating that his tongue was not ruled by his emotions. “Aethelstan was in our care for over a month. If you cared to ask, he would tell you about the books he read and the letters he insisted I teach him. We could hardly get him to go and play.”

“You were teaching him his letters?” She was taken aback, not expecting the warrior to know how to read and write. 

He frowned at her, clearly confused. “It most certainly wasn’t Sihtric,” he offered, trying to relieve the tension.

“Proper letters? Latin?” 

“I was tempted to try Gaelic, but that is a wee bit hard, even for me.”

It was Aelswith’s turn to be confused. Here was a warrior, covered with scars and dirt, who enjoyed frolicking around with heathens, who could read and write. She knew from her late husband that Finan had also been rescued on the slave ship that had taken Uhtred, but other than that, she knew nothing of the Irishman. “Where… did you learn?” She asked hesitantly. 

Finan’s gaze darkened, but he answered anyway. “My tutors. Back in Irland.” He sighed when he knew that Aelswith wanted more of an answer. “My family is the Ulaid tribe in Irland. I was set to inherit most of Northern Irland from my father, the king.” He worked his axe from the wood, then glanced back at her. “I have the qualifications to teach him about being a lord.” With that, he turned and strode deeper into the bush, clearly hoping to avoid her.

Blushing, Aelswith followed anyway, her determination for answers overruling her sense of propriety. “Then you should know that he needs to be learning about protocol and estate instead of playing games!”

Finan stopped abruptly and whipped around, eyes flashing. “What I _know_ , Lady Aelswith,” he said, so softly and yet so boldly, “is that Aethelstan is ten and is only now coming to terms with who he is supposed to be.” Finan narrowed his eyes at her, and Aelswith felt a wave a chills come over her at the intensity in his eyes. “I also know how _I_ felt when my younger brother Conall was running around playing games while I was stuck inside reading about taxes owed to my father and hearing of the woman I was to marry. No child, royal or not, deserves any less of a childhood than the next one.” 

Properly chastened, Aelswith stood there as he turned back and moved deeper into the woods. She knew that she should not follow. 

It had never occurred to her that Uhtred’s were anything more than that: Uhtred’s men. But Finan had stood up to her challenging, which was something she only knew Alfred to do. Head clouded with thoughts, she turned and made her way back into the clearing. 

Aethelstan was finished picking up the sticks, and was now attempting to help the Dane lash two branches together. As she watched the Dane patiently show Aethelstan how to best to tie the rope around the branches, she realized that she felt no anger towards him.

“If you distrust Sihtric with Aethelstan, then I hope that I can convince you to be at ease.”

Aelswith was startled at Father Pyrlig came up beside her, also watching Aethelstan tie a knot, grinning when the Dane ( _Sihtric_ , Aelswith thought) congratulated him. Her conversation with Finan was causing her to reevaluate her thoughts on Uhtred’s men, even though she grimaced slightly at Sihtric ruffling her grandson’s hair. “What do you mean?” She asked him.

Father Pyrlig nodded toward Sihtric and Aethelstan. “Sihtric is the one who kept both your grandchildren and Uhtred’s children under some semblance of control when he and Finan were at Saltwic. It was quite the step up for him from his own son.”

“He has children?” Aelswith tore her gaze from Aethelstan and Sihtric and looked at Father Pyrlig. “A family?”

Father Pyrlig glanced at her, an understanding look in his eyes. “His wife’s name is Ealhswith, I believe.”

“But that is a Saxon name.”

“He himself is half-Saxon. His mother was a slave taken by Kjartan the Cruel.” 

Aelswith sucked in a breath, putting the pieces together herself. She knew of the brutality that Kjartan had reigned with in the north, and the fact that his bastard son could show so much gentleness towards the child Prince of Wessex made her realize that she had labeled these men incredibly quickly and had not let herself see the goodness in them. 

“Father,” she hesitated. “I do not know how to thank them for caring for Aethelstan so much.”

“And Aelfwynn. Sihtric is the reason Aethelflaed could make it to Aeglesburgh to find her.” The Father grinned. “His tracking skills never cease to amaze me.” But smile slide from his face as he faced her again. “Lady, you can thank them by trusting them. They have yet to let their lord down. You can also thank them by respecting them. They are not so different from you and I.” With a short bow, Father Pyrlig walked back to Uhtred to help him clear the thin twigs from the thick branch.

Aelswith knew that Aethelstan adored Finan and Sihtric, and believed that the feeling was reciprocated. Aethelstan had lived for so long under the care of the church, never having people similar in age around him or a figure to look up to. The Abbess of the nunnery hiding him had been kind and loving to the boy, but she knew that deep down he desired a relationship with someone who could be like a father to him. 

With a pang, Aelswith realized that she appreciated Finan and Sihtric, as well as Uhtred. She had been determined to extend her dislike of Uhtred to his men as well. Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Aethelstan running to Finan as he came from carrying many long branches, and went to find Uhtred to thank him.


	2. Chapter 2

Aelswith knew that she should have made more a fuss when multiple Danes rode past them on this trading route. 

The Dane Haestan had found them, and his men had quickly surrounded them. She was separated from his warriors, having only Uhtred in front of her. The rest of his men were nervously keeping the heathens at bay.

Aelswith clutched Aethelstan closer to her as the Dane Haesten swung down from his horse and approached Uhtred.

“What do you want from us, Haesten?” Aelswith heard Uhtred ask. She was warily watching the many Danes surround her, with only Uhtred’s daughter at her side. 

“A gift, for my new lord.” Haesten grinned.

Uhtred scoffed. “And who has this misfortune?”

“Sigtryggr, the kin of Ivar the Boneless.”

Aelswith felt her heart plummet into her stomach. She had heard of Ivar the Boneless and his terrifying reputation made her glad that he had stayed in Irland. The fact that his kin was here was worrying.

“A boy without reputation.” Uhtred goaded, and Aelswith desperately wished she could smack him round the head.

“Reputation will come.” Haesten began walking around. “He has landed from Irland and wants all Danes to follow him.” Haesten turned to face them. “He delivered Brida from Wealas and she has joined.”

Aelswith remembered Brida and her defiance. Her and Ragnar Ragnarson had been held in Winchester for years as hostages. She knew that this woman had a furious fire within her and could not help but worry about what wrath it could bring.

Laughing, Uhtred rolled his eyes. “She joined with Cnut,” he said, smirking. “That did not go well for her.” As Haesten chuckled, he continued. “You are sworn to a boy, Haesten.”

“Indeed,” Haesten agreed. “He is young. But,” he said, and he and the rest of his men moved closer, closing the circle around them. “He is cunning.”

Her breathing shallow, Aelswith tried to make herself as small as possible in the centre of the imposing heathens. She prayed with all of her will that they did not know who Aethelstan was, as she knew that they would not be kind to the boy. 

“Whilst you played Lord and the Saxons fought amongst themselves, he captured Winchester.”

At this, Aelswith’s heart really did fall into her stomach. “No,” she whispered.

“Yes!” Haesten cried, a cynical smile plastered onto his face. “Lady Aelswith, you’re going home!” He gestured to Stiorra. “Take the girl too.”

Aelswith’s panic arose when Stiorra ripped her dagger out of its sheath. “No! You will not fight it.” She dared to look at Uhtred, and swallowed hard when she saw the panic in his own eyes as his sword was removed from his back sheath.

They were placed into the wooden wagon, and Aelswith held Aethelstan tighter as it started moving away. 

Finan’s voice rose above the jostling in the back. “Lord?” She heard him call as they were moving away. “Lord! Lord, what do we do?” She could see Uhtred and Haesten exchanging words, and still, the worry was clear on Uhtred’s face. 

It did not comfort her. Stiorra was still staring back at her father in shock, and Aethelstan had tucked himself under her arm, eyes wide. She could feel him shaking slightly, but she found herself also unable to look away from the large group. 

“NO!” She heard Finan cry, and she saw Sihtric fall to the ground, a Dane standing over him with the hilt of the sword pointed towards Sihtric’s head. Sihtric was still, but after a moment she saw him squeeze his eyes shut and grimace as he grabbed his head.

“Finan, Osferth, stop!” Uhtred cried out, and his men dropped their weapons. 

“No, no, no.” Stiorra muttered as Uhtred’s men knelt down on the ground. A Dane wrenched Sihtric’s arms behind his back and tied his wrists together while another wrapped rope around his ankles. Others began to do the same with the rest of Uhtred’s men.

“Aethelstan, do not look.” Aelswith covered his eyes as she began to understand what was going to happen. The Dane who tied Sihtric’s ankles together was now threading a long rope through the tight knots and throwing the open end over the large branch the oak tree above them.

Just as they turned the corner in the road, Aelswith shuddered as she saw them hoist Sihtric into the air, his dark hair falling about his face. His panicked face was the last thing she saw as the trees and bush blocked the line of sight.

“I do not know how they will get out of this,” Stiorra looked at her, and Aelswith swallowed hard at the hopelessness in Stiorra’s eyes. “They will not allow them any chance to escape.”

“If they have taken Winchester, then all is lost anyway.” Aelswith knew her words were harsh, but fate of Uhtred and his men were out of her hands. They could only try their best to survive.

“Where is Eadith?”

Aelswith turned to Aethelstan as he spoke, and she suddenly remembered the red-haired woman whom she sent to find more firewood.

“Aethelstan,” Stiorra whispered excitedly, trying to keep her voice down from the guard beside them. “Bless your thinking brain.” 

“She is but one woman against Danes!” Aelswith said sharply. “We must think for ourselves.” With a glare, Stiorra stopped talking and Aethelstan also fell quiet.

“I am glad that Sihtric has his seax.” Aethelstan said suddenly and quietly. “He gave it to me to protect me when Eadith’s brother came for Aelfwynn.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “What else happened?” 

“Finan told me to run into the woods once the fighting started, but Eadith talked her brother down. Sihtric let me hold the seax until he left to find the Lady Aethelflaed.” He furrowed his brow, upset. “I did not want to give it back, but I’m glad I did."

Aelswith bit her lip, emotions she never imagined she would feel for Uhtred’s men filling her. She suddenly understood that they had gone through so much for her grandchildren. She swallowed, trying to keep her emotions in check, but she knew that somehow she would never repay them for their kindness. She grabbed her crucifix, ignoring Stiorra’s disgusted look, and prayed to God for a chance to thank them.


End file.
